My first job out of college was working on a purebred Angus ranch. I knew in advance there was no future in the job because the cattle were as popular as three-week-old sushi. The owner was either in denial or dumber than a branding iron, but he considered himself to be a brilliant businessman. He was insistent that he was going to teach me the fine art of dickerin’.

“Today I’m going to teach you how to buy something well below its true value,” he said. “We’re going to a farm that’s been sold and the owner must get rid of everything on the place before the close of escrow. That means he’ll be desperate to sell. We need a manure spreader for the ranch and he’s got one that will suffice, so just watch how I negotiate the price.”

We went to the farm sale, checked out the manure spreader and then my boss told the owner, “I’ll not pay a penny more than $250 for this worn out piece of junk.”

At this point I tugged on his jacket to convey to him a very important message. but he rudely swatted me away. “Can’t you see we’re negotiating a deal and you should just shut up and try to learn something.”

The farmer didn’t like the way my boss treated me so he said, “I want $350.”

My boss took the deal but when we left I showed my boss a sign on the barn that said, “Yippee, we sold the ranch so everything today is FREE!”

My next lesson came on the day of a local bull test sale in which my boss had entered six bulls. “Here’s $40,” he said. “Buy anyone who looks at our bulls a lunch ticket for the barbecue.”

That evening I handed him back his $40 and said, “Here’s your money back, no one looked.”

“How much did our bulls sell for?” he asked.

“Well, uh, not a single one of them actually sold. I bought them back at well below slaughter value.”

The last “lesson” my boss taught me was how to negotiate a private treaty sale. “There’s a big bull buyer coming tomorrow and I won’t be here so tell him he’s getting first pick of the bulls and you won’t take a penny less than $2,500. I’ve studied the sale averages of some of the better bull sales and that’s what they’re averaging. Remember, not a penny less than $2,500.”

It turned out that I’d known this “big bull buyer” for a while as Mr. D was from my county and was also in the citrus business. Mr. D was a gentle old soul and a sincere, honest gentleman. We caught up on old times and then I showed him the bulls.

“How are they priced?” he asked politely.

“My boss said to tell you he wouldn’t take a penny less than $2,500 because you’re getting first pick and that’s what the better bulls are averaging.” I stressed to my friend that it was my boss trying to gyp him, not me.

Mr. D. smirked and said, “Considering the quality of the bulls, you tell your boss I couldn’t pay more than $1,000 apiece.”

That evening I conveyed the message to my boss that I didn’t get any bulls sold and that Mr. D’s top offer was a $1,000. “Keeping in mind that you said not take a penny less than $2,500 we couldn’t come to an agreement on price.”

My boss hit the roof. He was madder than a cow with sore teats and twin calves but he was not mad at Mr. D., he was mad at me. “You mean to tell me you let $1,500 stand in the way of a trade?” he asked.

“Well, you being a master negotiator. I’m sure if you called him, you might be able to work something out,” I said.

So, my boss called him and they came to terms. When Mr. D came to pick up the bulls I asked him what he paid.

“Nine hundred dollars apiece,” said Mr. D, with a big smile on his face.

“But that’s a hundred dollars less than you were willing to pay in the first place!”

“I realize that,” said Mr. D. “You know Lee, some people ought to learn to quit while they’re behind.”